Passion's Tide

by Sarah West

  Reaching it, he squatted down and pulled from his belt a crowbar she had not noticed that he was carrying. “How do you know where to go?” she inquired as she held the lamps for him to see.

  “Same way you know your way around your library, I would assume. I’d bet you could locate any book with your eyes closed, just by having been up and down the rows hundreds of times.” She smiled at the accurate guess. “This is my ship; I have a specific organizational system.”

  “Well, what’s in this box, then?”

  “Presents,” he said as he pried the lid off and moved it aside. The light from the lanterns hit the metal objects in the crate and reflected into Amber’s eyes, blinding her until she lowered her gaze and saw that it was filled with swords. Her eyes widened and a smile spread across her face. Without a word he took the lamps and stepped aside, motioning her to find one that she liked. One by one she lifted out cutlass and rapier, broadsword and hangar, testing each for weight and balance as Logan watched in silence. She decided on a simple yet elegant cutlass with a curved blade and a leather scabbard, though she kept eyeing the extravagant cavalry sword with the carved inscription.

  He insisted she take both, and, ignoring her protests, led her over to another open crate that contained smaller blades. He helped her choose several daggers and then handed her a baldric to hold most of them. On top of the pile in her arms he dumped several strips of leather, which he explained were used to secure the smaller knives about her body so they would remain hidden but accessible. He added a boarding axe, a wide brimmed hat and a thick, long jacket.

  “I’ve come to terms with the idea of you fighting amongst my men. In fact, I can see no other way around it, if I plan on making it to England without you slitting my throat while I sleep.” She chuckled. “But I refuse to allow you to enter a battle resembling a woman in any way. Your hair will be plaited and pinned to the top of your head, and you will wear a scarf around it to conceal the color. The hat will further ensure nobody sees your hair, and also will cast a shadow over your face, hiding your feminine features. Here, give me those and try on the coat,” he told her as she shifted the pile from her arms into his and slid into the jacket.

  “It’s heavy,” she noted, lifting up her arms and folding back the sleeves to reveal her hands.

  “I know it is, but it won’t look too out of place, and it masks your figure. I thought about binding your chest, but realized that your hips would still give you away.” She blushed as she shrugged out of the jacket and placed it with her other things, taking the pile from him.

  “Logan, I don’t know how to thank you for all of this.”

  “Just do your best not to get yourself killed,” he responded with a cocky smile, which faded as she gave him a light-hearted kick in the shins. “It isn’t as big a deal as you would think, I mean, just look at this place.” He lifted the lantern to illuminate the room. “There’s far too much stuff in here, and it just keeps piling up. In the past few years we’ve stopped stripping down the ships we capture; instead we steal only the provisions that we foresee needing, like food and water, and on occasion, goods of exceptional value that we can sell upon making port. Other than that, anything you want that is down here is yours. There are some crates with books over there, and the boxes stacked in this corner are stuffed with yards upon yards of fine fabrics and laces and satins…why we ever thought we would need six bolts of embroidered silk escapes me. But, nevertheless, if you want it, it’s here.

  “Oh, and look at this! This is interesting, a whole trunk of wigs. If pirating doesn’t work out for you, you always have a future as a royal judge. I think the look suits you very well,” he said as he adjusted a white powdered wig on her head. She giggled as it slid over her eyes.

  “Thank you, but no.”

  He shrugged and tossed the wig back into the trunk. “Suit yourself. How about some...buckles! Oh yes, every girl loves to adorn herself from head to toe with buckles. It’s the newest trend, all the girls are doing it this Season. And now you’re giving me that look again.”

  “What look?”

  “The one that says you think I’m crazy.”

  “Not crazy, just…different. Silly, fun. I like it. It’s a side of you I haven’t seen before.”

  “What, now pirates can’t be silly?” he asked with a straight face as he placed a large purple hat, covered with feathers and fake birds, at a jaunty angle on his head. He snapped open a fan and pretended to cool himself, sending her a coy glance over the top of the gilded blades, like a fresh debutante. “Why Lady Amber, may I say you look striking in that ensemble,” he said in a distinct British accent. “Where on earth did you find such a creation?”

  “Your accent is flawless,” she noted, dusting off a leather tricorne hat. “Are you from England, originally?”

  “Yes. But listen, I have another present for you if you’ll head back on deck with me.”

  She placed the hat back into the trunk and eyed him with suspicion. “Are you attempting to distract me from asking questions about your personal life by dangling pretty baubles and gifts in front of me?”

  “I’m not sure. Is it working?”

  “Yes.”

  He laughed and offered her his arm. “Then that’s exactly what I’m doing. Come on, I’m proud of this one,” he said, leading her up the stairs. Back in his cabin, he instructed her to place everything on the bed and stand with her eyes closed and palms extended. “I can see you peeking,” he scolded as she snapped her eyes shut.

  Something dropped into her hands, and he told her to open her eyes. “What do you think?”

  “It’s incredible,” she exclaimed, as she gaped at the pistol with the carved ivory handle that she had noticed in Tortuga. Even now, it somehow felt like it was constructed for her alone, so perfect did it feel in her hands. “But Logan, this is a priceless weapon, and it must cost a fortune. I can’t accept this.”

  “I already told you, I’ve acquired more wealth than I could spend in five lifetimes. I remembered you liked it, so it’s yours. I had William take a look at it, and he was able to adjust the trigger so that it’s not so responsive. I can show you a few things tomorrow, if you’d like.”

  “That would be wonderful, thank you.” she met his eyes and a look of understanding passed between them, bridging the gap the tiniest bit.

  Chapter Fifteen

  For the next two weeks they carried on in the same civil manner, but the tension between them continued to grow. Every night Amber would bathe in the cabin while Logan tried not to watch—and failed. He attempted several times to leave, but on each occasion Amber insisted that he stay, citing the need for stimulating conversation after a long, grueling day. He had no choice but to acquiesce.

  No amount of willpower could pull his gaze from her naked body, however, though he continued to try. Each night, a battle raged within him, between his body and his mind. So far, reason emerged victorious from the fight, but lust refused to back down. Every evening it became harder and harder to convince himself that the ramifications of stripping down and joining her in the tub would far outweigh the benefits. The worst part was when she rose to dry herself off and get dressed, because his eyes were drawn to the water that cascaded down her skin. He hated himself for it.

  When she finished she would brush her hair at the table and read for a little while, and then she would crawl under the covers in Logan’s bed and drift to sleep. As she settled in, Logan would bid her goodnight and take his leave of the room to complete his nightly tasks, a ritual he had started after he began to distrust himself around her. She noticed his absence but never thought to ask, thinking nothing amiss.

  And when Logan did come back, sometimes early in the morning, he noticed that her breathing evened out upon his entering, as if his mere presence had the ability to calm her. The thought did nothing to settle him. He would hang up his hammock as far away from her as he could and try to fall asleep, but more often then not he would lie awake listening to the sound
of her steady breathing.

  The sun was beating down upon the cool waters of the Atlantic as the Imperial Shadow floated stationary. It was late morning on a particularly hot day, and Amber was seeking refuge from the sun with the other men on the deck. They were sailing through calm doldrums, and there had been no wind for days. Logan had ordered them to drop the sails, so the ship remained motionless on the flat water. It was too humid to do much of anything. The men lay sprawled out, hardly moving, bored and anxious.

  “How long is this expected to last?” she asked as she pulled her shirt away from her sticky skin. All of the men had stripped down to the waist by this time, and she envied their freedom to do so.

  Eli gave her a pitiful shrug. “A typical calm lasts only a few days, but I’ve been stuck in one that didn’t end for several weeks.”

  Logan threw open the door to his cabin, red-faced and glistening with sweat. “I can’t take this any longer,” he cried in exasperation. “How am I supposed to do anything, let alone concentrate on a bunch of damn nautical maps, when I can’t even move without breaking into a sweat?”

  “What’s gotten into his breeches?” whispered Pax into Amber’s ear. She shushed him, her eyes trained on Logan.

  “Jackson, drop the ladders. I refuse to sit here and melt when there is an ocean full of cool, inviting water. Men, do whatever you please, but I’m getting out of this damn heat.” With a nod towards Eli, he strode to the edge of the deck, stepped onto the railing and dove into the water.

  All at once the quiet ship sprang into action as the crew lunged to their feet and ran to the side, desperate to cool down. Amber herself wasted no time getting off the boat. The moment she hit the water her whole body shuddered with happiness, and she spent the rest of the morning playing with the sailors, reminded of the times she would swim in the pond with her father as a child.

  Pax and Deacon rigged up a rope swing, while Henry and Johnny embarked on a quest to find sharks. Fishing nets were tossed down and Jackson managed to catch two sea turtles, exciting the crew even further.

  “Just don’t make them suffer,” she yelled up to the pirates who were straining to haul the large animals over the side of the ship.

  “Sure thing, Amber,” Jackson called back as he disappeared over the railing, the turtle toppling over on him with a loud thump. She shook her head and continued to float on her back, closing her eyes as the sun warmed her face.

  “I’d say that’s about the only productive thing that’s going to come out of today,” Logan remarked as he swam over to her.

  “Hmm?”

  “The turtles. With the weather staying as it is I doubt anything else will happen, so at least we can say we’re adding a bit of variety to our diet.”

  “I’ve never had turtle,” she replied with a languid sigh. “Is it good?”

  “It’s not my personal favorite, but the men seem to enjoy it. Plus, it’s convenient and a nice break from the monotony once our meat supplies run low. And if we catch more than one at a time, they can be kept alive for weeks on their backs.”

  “That sounds terribly cruel to me.”

  He laughed. “You’re a pirate now, remember? You can’t think of killing a man in cold blood and get upset about a turtle. It just doesn’t work that way.”

  “I don’t care, it’s still mean. And besides, I’m not a real pirate. I’m only one because it was more appealing to me than the alternative.”

  “Which was?”

  “Being bored stiff,” she said as she closed her eyes again, letting the quiet breeze brush across her face.

  Her eyes shot open. “Logan…there’s a breeze,” she cried as she righted herself in the water.

  He lifted his head and sure enough, felt the slightest whisper of wind. Excitement built in him and he grabbed her by the waist, pulling her against his body. “Let down the sails! I want to be moving in ten minutes,” he called to his men, sending them scrambling up the side of the ship to follow his demands.

  “What are you doing?” she asked, still in his arms as his powerful legs kicked with ease to keep them above water.

  “Thanking you.”

  “What for?”

  He kissed her then, a light kiss that had her searching for breath.

  “For getting us out of here. You first,” he offered as he released her. She scurried back onto the ship and was about to rush into action when Logan’s hand grasped her elbow. “You should change before you do anything else.”

  “I’m fine really,” she countered. He shook his head, and directed her attention back towards her clothes, all of which were plastered to her body. The look in his eyes was unmistakably heated, and she shrank back from the intensity of his gaze, the butterflies returning to her stomach as she sought privacy in the cabin. When she came back outside they were moving again, the slight breeze catching in the sails and pushing the ship forward. The men were all happy to be busy and settled back into their regular routine without complaint.

  Logan saw Amber standing by the quarterdeck and sent her a brilliant smile. “I hope you know how to dance,” he said by way of a greeting as he strode up to her, Eli behind him.

  “I beg your pardon?”

  “There’s going to be a celebration tonight. Abe is making turtle soup, we’re breaking into the barrels of rum, and several of the men are going to provide us with music. All of this leads me back to my first statement: I hope you can dance.”

  “Of course I can dance,” she replied. “I am, after all, a lady.”

  “I was hoping you would say that. Because there are stringent rules stating that any woman attending a celebration on board a pirate ship must be dressed appropriately.”

  “I’m assuming you are about to tell me what constitutes appropriate dress. Am I correct?”

  “Don’t encourage him,” Eli prompted, but was shushed by Logan.

  “Appropriate dress for a pirate party is…well, a dress.”

  “Ay, think of all the lonely men on the ship Amber,” came Pax’s voice from behind her. “We haven’t had anything to look at in weeks, what with being stuck at sea. Why don’t you give us something pretty to occupy our thoughts?” A glare from Logan sent him scampering away.

  Amber smiled. “Don’t worry, I think I understand what is required of me. May I have the afternoon off to rummage around in the hold? You did mention that I could have anything I wanted down there, and I’m hoping I’ll find something to wear.”

  “Of course,” he replied, taken off guard. Amber thanked him and left, leaving Logan and Eli alone.

  “You really are thick-headed,” Eli chastised him. “That or you love putting yourself in these situations. I don’t think you realize what you’re unknowingly doing to yourself. You saw what happened when you told her she couldn’t keep up with the other men, and now she’s as capable as any member of your crew. What do you think is going to come of you challenging her to be feminine?” Logan groaned. “Exactly.”

  Amber was digging through her trunk for her clean white chemise when Eli poked his head into the room. “Abe wanted me to ask you whether you’re going to need some hot water this afternoon, as you won’t have a chance to bathe after dinner.”

  She stood, the chemise grasped in her hands. “Well, I did swim today, so I’d say I’m pretty clean. But if he wouldn’t mind terribly, a bucket of fresh water would be wonderful.”

  “Fresh water? As in, from our limited stores of drinking water?”

  She sent him a coy smile. “I just want to look my best tonight, Elijah.”

  He laughed. “Your tactics won’t work on me sweetheart, but I can see why Logan is besotted with you. I’ll tell Abe to bring you a bucket of hot water first thing.”

  “Thank you.” She began laying out her outfit for the evening: on top of her chemise she was going to wear a cheerful yellow dress that she had brought from home. In the hold she had found a bolt of red fabric that had a decorative design on it, similar to patterns she had seen in Tortuga. She plan
ned on wrapping it around her waist as a second skirt, to add more color to her ensemble. In another crate she had found a beautiful necklace of blue beads, and a realistic looking cloth flower that she would place behind her ear.

  She jumped in front of her pile of clothes as the door opened. “I thought you might like some help,” Logan offered unconvincingly as he tried to see past her to what she was hiding.

  “I’m doing quite well on my own, thank you. And you should probably change now or take your clothes with you, as I’ll require privacy until the party.” He nodded and gathered up a clean outfit, then, shooting her one last glance, left without a word. As the door closed she turned, only to spin around as it opened again.

  “Good afternoon, Miss Amber,” Anton said as he carried a large bucket inside. He was one of the only pirates who continued to address her formally. “Abe was busy making the turtle soup, so he asked me to bring this up to you. Where would you like it?”

  “Over behind the screen is fine, Anton,” she said as she walked over to the table where she had set out a needle and thread to repair a small tear in the red fabric. “Are you looking forward to this evening’s festivities?”

  “Oh, yes,” he replied. “It sure will be nice to be able to relax and have some fun. Is this a good spot?” She glanced up from her work and noted his location in the mirror directly across from the table.

  “Yes, that’ll do just fine. I really only need it for…”

  “Need it for what. Miss Amber, is everything all right?” His face appeared from behind the screen. She sat at the table, mouth open aghast at the unlimited view of the bathtub that the mirror provided. “Miss Amber, should I fetch Logan?”